


Holiest Hairs

by yotoll



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, but mostly fluffy niceness, how did I forget that tag wut, no pining only love, they are soft and in love okay, tiniest angst if only because of Crowley's fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26020225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yotoll/pseuds/yotoll
Summary: The night was quiet, and an angel and a demon relaxed in a flat in Mayfair. They were sitting together on a couch made not so much for sitting as it was for the appearance of being a couch. Half a bottle of wine sat on the coffee table with two mostly empty glasses beside it. They were both pleasantly buzzed and just enjoying each other’s company. Boisterous nights of binge drinking had diminished recently, thanks to the reduced stress of their “retirement.” They had become more naturally relaxed around one another, more affectionate now that they had entered into a new stage of their old relationship.“You always have such clever hairstyles,” Aziraphale said as he ran his fingers lightly through Crowley’s hair. It was luxuriously smooth and vibrant, something he had always admired from a distance with quick glances. “Do you use miracles to take care of it?”----Aziraphale and Crowley talk about their hairstyles while just a bit tipsy.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	Holiest Hairs

**Author's Note:**

> Be easy on me, 'tis my first time posting on this lovely site.

The night was quiet, and an angel and a demon relaxed in a flat in Mayfair. They were sitting together on a couch made not so much for sitting as it was for the appearance of being a couch. Half a bottle of wine sat on the coffee table with two mostly empty glasses beside it. They were both pleasantly buzzed and just enjoying each other’s company. Boisterous nights of binge drinking had diminished recently, thanks to the reduced stress of their “retirement.” They had become more naturally relaxed around one another, more affectionate now that they had entered into a new stage of their old relationship.

“You always have such clever hairstyles,” Aziraphale said as he ran his fingers lightly through Crowley’s hair. It was luxuriously smooth and vibrant, something he had always admired from a distance with quick glances. “Do you use miracles to take care of it?”

“Nope, s’all natural,” Crowley replied proudly. “Take care of it myself.” He relaxed at Aziraphale’s touch and gazed gently at the angel. “Yours is quite nice, too.” He returned Aziraphale’s touch in kind and savored the feeling of the angel’s soft curls.

Aziraphale flushed a little, still a bit unused to physical affection. He was getting better at not panicking at the smallest touches. “I just get it cut,” he admitted. “Lovely barber down the street. Offers me a good deal. Wonderful fellow to chat with, too.”

Crowley nodded approvingly. “Does a damn good job. Never felt like changing it up before?”

“Well, sometimes, but there’s not as much… self-expression in Heaven. We do—I mean, did, choose things, but it kind of became set in stone. Too much… variation is frowned upon. Could be seen as self-obsessive. Vanity isn’t a good look on angels.”

Crowley scoffed. “All those bloody rules. Glad to be free of them, personally.”

“Don’t think you Fell just because of the hair, though.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to—”

“Right, you just disagreed a bit with things.”

Crowley shrugged. “And I got fantastic hair for all my trouble.” _Once it had grown back_ , he didn’t add. He considered Aziraphale’s hair and smoothed it back with both of his hands. “Well, no Heaven to critique your hairstyles now. Gabriel won’t be able to bully you about a bad cut. Whaddya say to trying something different?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Oh, I don’t know…”

“C’mon, Aziraphale, I’m not talking anything extreme.” Crowley dropped his hands and stood up. “No buzzcuts or dreadlocks. You don’t even need to cut your hair to at least change it up a bit.”

Aziraphale readjusted his hair where Crowley had fussed with it. “I guess if it’s not too bad.” He eased himself up. “What do you recommend?”

Crowley leaned back, hands on his hips, and assessed the white, fluffy mess before him. “You could slick it back with some gel. Part it to one side. Try straightening it. It’s a bit short, so there’s not too much to be done with it.”

Aziraphale took a step towards Crowley, fidgeting a bit with his hands. “Would you…?”

It took a moment for Crowley to register the request, and his cheeks flushed at the idea. “Are you sure? Hair can be a very personal thing. I should know.” Took ages to figure out how to get his hair to cooperate and grow again from his burnt scalp.

The angel nodded and took a step closer. “Yes. I’m sure. I trust you that much.”

Crowley smiled a little bit at that and nodded. “Right. We’ll need a mirror, some brushes, some gel…” He counted it off on his fingers and started heading towards the bathroom. Aziraphale trailed after, equal parts excited and nervous.

They settled into the bathroom and Crowley sat a chair in front of the mirrors surrounding the sink. Aziraphale sank into the chair and considered the multitude of faces staring back at him. He liked to consider himself average enough, by human standards. His corporation wasn’t designed for being attractive, just comforting. Soft shapes and kind eyes. He didn’t think often about if he liked the state his body was in, save for when it was pointed out to him. It served its purpose, though he was rather attached to and used to it.

Crowley began fetching supplies from the drawers, laying out combs, hairsprays, gels, and a few things Aziraphale didn’t quite recognize as belonging in hair. They weren’t truly drunk, but maybe this would be something better tackled sober.

“Now, first and foremost, you need to actually have an opinion,” Crowley told him. “None of this ‘oh, of course it’s lovely, you did it’ stuff. If you don’t like it, tell me so. Flattery is nice, but hating your hair is not.”

Aziraphale pouted. “I can give honest opinions, you know.”

“Alright. Tell me what you think of my hair, then.” Crowley leaned against the counter and faced Aziraphale, smirking.

“Well, it’s lov—very nice. It suits you. Always has.” Aziraphale’s eyes darted away.

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s chin and leaned in, making sure the angel was looking. “C’mon, angel. Have an opinion. Do you like my hair as it is now? Or was there another style ages ago that made you fall deeply in love with me?” He grinned.

Crowley’s eyes were hypnotic as always, and Aziraphale took a moment to respond. “I guess I do like it long,” he managed to say. “Like when I first saw you in Eden. It flows well with you, all your long limbs and lankiness. Hated it when we were in Rome. Too neat against your skull back then.”

Crowley released Aziraphale’s face and snapped his fingers. “There we go! An opinion! Very well done.” He went to the back of the chair and rested his head on top of Aziraphale’s. “So, what do you want to try? I personally don’t like to miracle my hair, save for extreme circumstances, but we could give you some length.”

“No, I think short works for now,” Aziraphale replied. He was hesitant to make any big changes, especially partially tipsy. “How about what you were saying about slicking it back?”

“Could do, certainly.” Crowley picked up a comb and some gel and set to work.

The sensation was soothing. Crowley guided Aziraphale’s hair along, straightening out the curls and neatly arranging them. The gel was cold, and the comb tickled his scalp as Crowley worked it around his head. The motion was practiced; a trained hand glided the comb along. Aziraphale shut his eyes and relaxed.

“Don’t drift off on me, angel,” Crowley teased.

“Would never dream of it,” Aziraphale replied. He kept his eyes shut all the same.

Crowley kept at his work quietly, focused on the task at hand. He had done this plenty of times on his own head and a few others’ when he briefly took up a job as a barber in London. Giving someone a bad haircut was a wonderful way to sew minor upset and discord.

Before long, he had crafted the sides back smoothly. He brushed the hair up top and shaped it up to his liking. He looked over his work once more and gave a self-satisfied nod.

“Alright, angel, take a look.”

Aziraphale opened his eyes and regarded the style in the mirror. Flattened sides, a puffy top. Then, he regarded the grinning demon next to him in the mirror.

“ _Crowley!_ ” Aziraphale huffed.

The demon laughed infectiously. “You said you liked my hair!”

Aziraphale sulked. “I trusted you!”

“I told you not to drift off.” Crowley kissed the crown of Aziraphale’s head. “I agree, though. Looks better on me, anyway.” He was feeling a bit lazy, so he snapped his fingers and returned Aziraphale’s hair to its rightful state.

“Shouldn’t have trusted you while we’re tipsy,” Aziraphale grumbled. He fussed with his hair slightly. Crowley had restored it flawlessly, making it hard to be truly upset anymore, but Aziraphale still huffed a little as he stood.

“Trusting a demon isn’t a smart move ever,” Crowley teased. He began to tidy up the counter.

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him from behind and kissed the nape of his neck, earning a “ngk.” Crowley turned around to face him, and Aziraphale kissed him on the lips.

“Wily thing,” Aziraphale mumbled.

Crowley rested his arms on Aziraphale’s shoulders, taking in the lovely sight before him. “Plenty of mischief left in me yet.”

Aziraphale ran his fingers along Crowley’s scalp, massaging it gently. “I’ll just have to stick around to thwart you.” He pulled Crowley into a languid kiss, which the demon met eagerly. Just the two of them, sharing a quiet moment, unafraid and filled with love. It was a dream to be sure.

Aziraphale pulled back slightly and considered Crowley’s hair again, a question coming to mind. “Was your hair like this in Heaven? Before you…?”

Crowley pressed his lips together and swallowed in hesitation.

“You don’t have to tell me, it’s fine,” Aziraphale quickly backtracked.

“No, it’s, ah…” Crowley scratched at the back of his head, feeling how short it was cropped back there. “It’s fine. It did change. Kind of… burned off. Y’know, pit of sulfur and all that.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s fingers brushed through the short length, his eyes filled with admiration and affection. The angel’s smile made Crowley’s stomach flutter, and he leaned into the touch. “It’s lovely now.”

“Definitely glad to have it back.” It felt nice to have Aziraphale’s fingers tangled in his hair. Wonderful, tender touches. Maybe he’d let it grow out again.

They kissed again, and Aziraphale massaged Crowley’s scalp as he held the demon’s head close. He felt there was so much more to treasure with every strand of hair he caressed. Hell had taken something so beautiful and marred it, but here it was again, soft and beautiful beneath his fingers.

Heaven hadn’t offered much change for Aziraphale, but he hadn’t thought to seek it out. Change was beginning to come more naturally to him now, bit by bit. He felt no pressure to alter himself; it was just nice to have a choice.

What a wonderful thing, being able to choose.

**Author's Note:**

> Seek me out wherever you please, just search up yotoll


End file.
